I could only stare,
watching him gurgle up
his own discharge,
and laugh.

I laughed until the sound became so loud
as to solidify the air.

He rose from his body
and watched his mangled remains laid limply
against the tabletop

before I gathered him in my arms,
cradling him lovingly
before I cast him down.

Like a vase he burst into tiny fractures dissipating like dust in darkness.

“Death becomes you.”

I walked slowly,
taking each step

and tracing my fingers along his bloodied body
along the abomination that still lived atop my table.

Each finger felt the contours of a stringy muscle,
fat and bone left exposed to the open air,
the filthy dust clotted air.

“Death is close, I am so close to you that soon all will be darkness.”

I bent over his slack face.
The single light swung from side to side
revealing each side of his face in turns.

I bent so close
and smelt the metallic blood,
and to his lips a pressed my own.

The firm translucent skin opened slightly
and with it consciousness burst forth
through a scream that could double over even the numbest of men.

“Shhhhh, hush now baby.”
I smoothed back his hair
entangling a lock between my encrusted fingers.

I licked the blood from his face,
drinking in the clotted blood from his mouth,
******* the scream before it came,
rubbing his grainy tongue against my own
until they were raw.

I sat on his chest
holding his face,
cupping his chin
squeezing till his cheeks came together.

Oh and that fear!
The utter hatred he held for me
then made me want to kiss him again,
whisper meaningless utterances in his ear.

On impulse I stuck my nail into his left eye.

It came out with a ‘pop.’
I laughed again much like before.

The scream this time was loud,
more of outrageous surprise than of pain,
which came afterwards
in a low moan and pathetic cry.

I could imagine the dull pain
coupled with the sharp pain of his raw legs.

He was indeed a monster,
my own child.
Like me he found some want
of his torture and torturer.

In the deep recesses of his mind
he wanted for me to take him.
This would make the pain so complete.

Ripping out his eye
I trailed it down his chest,
circling it around each ******
before I threw it across the room

watching it bounce
then roll
to a stop against the crumbling brick wall.

I took him then in my mouth
tasting the blood and sweat
until again he became hard,

and with a grudging moan from his lips he came
and again I cupped it in my hands and made him drink.

Ingloriously he choked and died.

His eyes rolled upward
straining so hard he blew a vessel crying blood.

I rubbed each streak from his eyes,
******* the spatter of blood from my thumb.

“When I’m finished with you you’ll be dead.”
I told him frankly
before I began to stroke him.

The impulse came on so roughly
that I couldn’t control myself.
He came and I was left with his discharge in my hands.

Copying what I had seen him do to a street *****,
I feed him his own
watching him cough and spew out.

I closed my hand against his lips
and forced him to swallow
before I began to laugh.

The hysterical sound filled the room,
the vibrations shaking the hangings from my walls.

I couldn’t help myself.
As if a power beyond me gripped me
I laughed a throaty laugh before returning to my victim.

I stroked him till in his pain he became hard.
“You like to ****, and I am ****.”
I laughed.

His cry of pain made me stroke him,
clenching strokes which made him arch
and each time he came
I gathered his discharge into my hands,
cupping it as if it were water,
lifting the fluids to his lips forcing him to drink.

“I live for your pain you feed me and in turn I feed you.”

Again I pulled strip of skin from his inside thigh.
Ah, the close-lipped scream was music to me.
“Sing to me.” I crooned

before I peeled another strip slowly
letting the skin tear away from muscle
watching tendons rip
giving forth blood that slid down
pooling on the table,
then another and
another
till he lost consciousness from the pain.

“But you cannot hide within the confines of you mind. We must finish.”

It had been days and within that time he had killed three women.

One for each day.

Like an addicted ***** he mangled his victims bodies while they were still alive, ******* them and torturing them simultaneously.

I would have fun with him.

In the park he buried his dead,
each night digging
and refilling
a mass grave in the mountains.

I watched him
hidden among the thick sylvan night
relishing in the death all around me,
and still mourning the deaths that should have been mine.

There deaths would have been pleasurable,
gentle,
and natural.

It pained me to step on the leaves
discarded by the proud oaks and maples.

“I will not discard you.”
I whispered to the wind
intending for my words
to drift toward him.

I walked towards him,
my footfalls silent
with only the crows to give me away.

He turned peering into my eyes,
which held the look of one, just content after a meal.

“My turn.”

He woke to the pain of nails being ripped from his toes.
I enjoyed his agony,
danced to the music of his cries
like a pagan priest during a ritual.

I knew in that moment I loved him.

He and I were alike
with only the exception
that it was my job to **** and not his.

everything is silent outside,
but the screaming in my soul
gets louder as the day drags
on, and by twilight there is nothing
but noise in my head,

today i woke up with chaos
in the crevices of my eyelids
and terror like a rumor in my
chest, my legs begging to be
set free, to run away as fast
as they possibly can, but
my body is a caged bird, and
my heart, is telling me to stay.

I sat idly waiting,
watching her through her bedroom window.
She indeed was the one,
and how happy she would be when I told her
she would be my first.
Coming down the steps
and
walking out the door
I watched her still,
anxious for the moment to come
when I would hold her in my arms.
It was snowing out;
the contrast of her dark skin
against
the white snow,
a mere smudge she would have seemed
if not for the golden glow that surrounded her,
it made me to recall
a single chrysanthemum struggling in a field of snow.
I closed my eyes
imagining the taste of her,
wondering if she would have the scent of a flower,
or
if she would smell of fear
when I took her,
sliding myself into her gently
-never brusquely-
but in a way that would supersede even her
if only for a moment.

My hands were cold,
but not for long.
They wouldn’t be for long.
She turned a corner
and I followed,
but
could I control myself
long enough.

Oh God.

I could feel myself hardening
just watching her before me.
Watching her
my love,
the way she shook out her curls
letting the snow flakes
          tumble in
                  clumps
                         falling sporadically...
some melting
while others settled
on her shoulders
    and some
still falling from her grace to the ground.

The way she ran her hands over
her upper arms
to keep them warm maddened me!

I could see each goose bump
that grazed her palms
and each small shiver
   that
     happened
  in
    spasms
as she quickened her pace.

I will warm you.
I broke out in a smile.  
The winds beat against my teeth
numbing them,
but they would be warm
      soon enough.

My lips, pressed against hers in the dark,
under a streetlight
with only our shadows witness to our love.
She stopped
and pulled a cigarette out from her pocket.
The tiny flicker of a flame lighted,
she breathed in the smoke,
and let it out in a slow exhale.
The smoke rose,
curling and dancing
amongst the wind
like white silk it wrapped
around nothing
until it dispersed.

When will I make it stop!

When will I hear the sporadic
rise
and fall
of her chest before she was eternally still,

I could barely stand it!
We were so close to our destination
that my impatience would be the end of us.
I waited and walked and watched
until she came closer to that dark alleyway
which I knew she would turn down.
I knew she would wait outside
the door wedged between and below brick walls
faded and crumbling,
distorted
and discolored
from the erosion of the winter winds.
I would take her then.
Then I would take her.

******.
I think it’s time for another ****.
Soon though, soon I would confront him,
and he would not fare as well as my first.
Though indeed he would be different from the others,
someone new,
or maybe like my first
in his own way.

I’m feeling reminiscent. I’m feeling lonely for fear.

She stood outside the rusted metal door.
She knocked once,
but there was no answer.
There would be no answer.
Everyone had long since left to the other world.
I walked slowly towards her.
She took a last draw from her cigarette
and ground it beneath her foot.

I wonder what her bare feet will look like.

Of course there was all time for that.
I will kiss every toe
and burn the memory in my mind.

She jumped when I laid a gentle hand upon her shoulder.
Her eyes measured me warily.

Ah,

those dark brown eyes,
almost black,
so inhumanly beautiful.
I will kiss each one
and feel the caress of each soft eyelash against my skin.

Her panicked fear set within me a flame
and all I can see now was her,
her hair...her eyes...her supple mouth that formed a perfect cupid’s bow,
a bow I wanted to open,
stretch, kiss and caress.  

I pulled her to me.
I laid my lips atop hers amidst her struggle to get away,
but my grip was like iron.

I tasted the cigarette on her tongue.
Our chests touched
and I could feel the flutter of her heart
as she laid her palms against my chest trying to separate us.

The clink of teeth on teeth resounded loudly in my ears
and against the night air void of all sound.

She screamed,
a sound that I fully expected,
the delicate pitch
making me rush in a bought of impatience
to open the door that I pulled the metal from its hinges.

I pulled her inside towards the stairs, towards our room.

She raged against me.
Pulling and pushing,
trying desperately to flee, but it was too late.

I would not let her leave me. Never.